Genevieve's Secret
by Roxxi Roo
Summary: Gen has a little secret, and Argost wants to know more about it...
1. Chapter 1

Doyle was sound asleep, snoring peacefully and hypnotically. It had been a few months since he had courageously rescued Genevieve from Van Rook's evil clutches, and stolen her heart. His lover lay next to him, her hands resting gently on his broad back. Their silky white bed sheets lay over them, falling in folds around their resting bodies. They both had always been heavy sleepers, and as they dreamed together, neither one of them noticed the shifting shadow outside their open window. Silently, the intruder slid into the room, pattering across the carpeted floor with astonishing stealth for someone of his size. The man with spider-like arms decided that for once in his life, he would use slyness, rather than brute force, to capture his master's next victim. He slid the covers off of the sleeping couple gently, careful not to make any sound at all, hardly daring to breath. Doyle only stirred slightly as Munya tied the black ropes around his hands and feet tightly, being careful enough to not wake him. The red haired man was a bit sweaty, his blue boxers sticking to him from the warm July night. He itched the tip of his nose with his hands bound in front of him, unaware that he was in mortal peril. Pleased with his work, Munya tore a strip of purple cloth from the bottom of his pants, and gently tied it over the sleeping man's eyes, making a small knot on the back of Doyle's head. Munya froze as the man grunted in his sleep, and Genevieve rolled over to the other side of the bed. The young woman slept on her side, curled up in a ball, her lacy purple nightgown wrapped around her long legs. Assured that they were still asleep, he dared to move again, still tense, afraid of being caught, for he would be strongly outnumbered by the other members of the household. Before his victim had time to react, Munya roughly pressed a piece of duct tape over Doyle's mouth, and swiftly yanked the bound man out of his bed.

The sudden movement snapped Doyle out of his sleep, and the dazed man began to struggle, clueless as to what was happening. Seeing only darkness, he realized he was being kidnapped, an experience he had gone through before. He thrashed around, shaking his head fiercely like a roaring lion, kicking his legs out behind him with the force of a bucking stallion. He pounded on the kidnapper's shoulder, making desperate attempts to free himself. In response, the purple monster gripped him tighter and made a bloody gash in Doyle's exposed back with one of his extra arms, a thin trail of blood dripping onto the new carpet. The suffering man attempted to scream in pain, but his cried were muffled by the gag. He tried to call out to Genevieve as he was lifted onto Munya's back and hauled out the window, but his efforts failed. Only quiet grunts and various sounds escaped, Doyle now breathing heavily, snorting like an angry bull. Doyle had no idea if his beloved Genevieve was safe, and he choked back the fear that welled up in his throat, forcing himself to be strong. With a final glance back at Genevieve, Munya climbed into the old maple tree outside their window, and leapt onto the grassy lawn below, dashing off into the night, eagerly awaiting the praise he would receive from his master.

"Go back to bed, love, it's too early" Genevieve mumbled, the woman annoyed at being disturbed. She placed her pillow over her head and fell asleep once again, unaware that Doyle had vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

The first rays of sunlight entered the large bedroom in the Saturday household, Genevieve slowly awakening from her slumber. Instinctively, she rolled over to rub her lover's warm shoulders, but felt nothing but his vacant pillow. Her emerald eyes snapped open, realizing that Doyle wasn't there. She was an early riser, and no matter what, she always awoke before he did, so the nervous woman knew that something wasn't right. Genevieve swung her legs over the side of the bed, slid her feet into her bunny slippers, and frantically began searching for her absent soul mate. As she headed for the door to begin searching the rest of the house, she froze, noticing the deep red streak across the carpet near the window. She was speechless as she approached it to examine it further, noticing that it was dried blood. Genevieve immediately suspected a kidnapping, and prayed it wouldn't turn into a murder, tears threatening to spill from her bright eyes. Frightened, the dark haired lady dashed down the hall and pushed Doc and Drew's bedroom door open, startling the sleeping couple.

"Drew! Doc! Someone took Doyle! They hurt him too, because there's blood on the floor! What do they want with him?" Genevieve blurted out, terror burning in her eyes, which were beginning to flood with tears. Without asking any questions, they followed the worried woman back to her room, and were shocked to find the large strip of blood that had seeped into the carpet.

"I have a pretty good idea who's behind this, and I'm gonna save my Doyle." Genevieve's tone of panic was replaced by one of anger and determination as she entered her walk-in closet to find a suitable outfit for her journey.

"You can't go; it's probably a trap! You're gonna end up locked away in a dark dungeon, or even worse. If you go, we're coming too" Drew stated, begging her sister in law to stay with them.

"I just need you to drop me off at the Weird World mansion, and I'll handle it myself" Genevieve replied sternly, emerging from the closet wearing the black outfit from the night she had first met Doyle, when they had both robbed the same house. She brushed past them as if they were invisible, seizing her glaive from behind the bedroom door, and striding out into the hall. Doc and Drew decided it was best not to argue her decision, so reluctantly, they followed her out to the airship. After the three heroes boarded, the large battleship rose into the morning sky, embarking on the short flight to Weird World. Genevieve sat behind Doc, steaming up the silver blade of her glaive and rubbing it with the black cloth that hung loosely from her neck. As she gazed at her reflection, she noticed that a single tear was rolling down her pale cheek, though she didn't even know she was crying. The salty droplet landed on the blade, ran along the razor-sharp edge, and dripped off of the tip, landing on the metal floor with a quiet splash.

"Hold on, Doyle, I'm coming."

--

_To all of my fans and readers: I'm going on vacation soon, so I'll be gone for about 2 weeks probably. When I get back, I'll be sure to write and update ASAP. Thank you all so much!_


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